An Uneasy Alliance
by Gate Keeper1073
Summary: She's a NCR trooper. He's a Legion soldier. When both are left stranded, wounded and alone after their units get decimated by an unexpected Deathclaw encounter, can they set aside their differences long enough to get to safety? EDIT: chapter 1 fixed
1. Chapter 1

**Good Morning!**

**Hello everyone, my name is Gatekeeper. I've had this little idea bumping into the back of my brain for a bit now, so I decided to turn it loose and see where it went.**

**If you are interested I have a small series called Chance Encounters and Where They Lead and some other stories so if you enjoy this one I'm sure you'll like some of the others.**

**In addition much like my others stories I promise no regular updates but I do intend to work on each one to the best of my ability.**

**For in game purposes these two are of course OC's with occasional run-ins with other characters including the Courier. I plan on having some other New Vegas stories that will be set in the same game universe.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Sincerely,**

**Gatekeeper**

**EDIT: fixed the words so you can actually read lol**

* * *

War, War never changes.

The strategies of War change, the tools it uses change, nations who bow to it change, the excuses made for it change. Lines are redone, battlefields created and forgotten, heroes rise and fall.

But War? War never changes.

Wealth, Land, Power and Principal; the reasons for War never change either.

Where our ancestors fought with man-made lightning and hellish energy, with armored titans that shook the earth and vertibirds that brought down hails of lead and fury we follow with spears and rusting guns.

Oh yes, War never changes.

And so it is now, two hundred years after our ancestors started their last war, we have ours. Out here in the Mojave wasteland, the NCR fights the Legion over a barren desert and ancient relics of a dead age.

And just like in every war before it, there's a thousand little tales in between it all.

This is one of those stories.

* * *

He could barely feel anything, but he kept on walking. He had to. He was ordered to.

_"That's what a legionnaire is, Argus." The old man had said. "Unrelenting, unstoppable. Trust your training, but rely on your instincts and you'll thrive." He looked at the nervous initiate and smiled. "Do that, and I think Mars himself will make you something the Legion has never seen."_

Pain lanced through his side, where cracked ribs were digging through his flesh. He marched on, gritting his teeth.

Helooked down at the... burden in his arms. A girl who was dressed in an NCR uniform.

He tried to hold back a growl as her weight shifted against his, pressing on his bad side momentarily.

His training said to kill her. Leave her throat slit open and ready for the geckos. Get rid of the trash and get back to Legion territory to beg for forgiveness for running from a fight.

_He was on the ground, hissing in pain as he felt his ribs crack. He didn't expect the trooper to have hand-to-hand skills, and now he paid the price. The man did a quick battle survey before pulling out a pistol and aiming it at Argus' head._

_You have your orders, and so do I kid. I get that. But orders don't stop Deathclaws, guns do. So promise me, if I let you go, you take Bell and run. I'll be able to stop them long enough for you guys to escape. A life for a life, isn't that what you Legion guys do? So here it is; I give you your life, and you take care of the girl till she's in safety. Promise?_

_The gun rustled a little as the NCR Sargeant moved his other arm to extend his hand to the prone form of Argus, just far enough that a grab attempt would end in death rather than struggle._

_"... I promise, on my head let it be."_

But his instinct said to go faster, and so he did. His orders were to get the girl to safety, and so he tried.

He stumbled over a rock, his muscles straining to balance both him and the load he carried. He couldn't go much farther, but he'd be damned if he just lay down now.

_"Get up! GET! UP! Did I tell YOU to STOP? NO I DID FUCKING NOT! YOU WANT TO BE A LEGIONNAIRE?"_

_"YES, SIR!"_

_""THEN YOU WILL KEEP ON RUNNING TILL YOU ARE ONE! REMEMBER THIS, MAGGOTS: WE ARE CAESAR'S LEGION. WE RUN TOGETHER, FIGHT TOGETHER AND WE ARE TOGETHER. WE CANNOT FAIL! IS THAT CLEAR?"_

_"YES, SIR!"_

_""GOOD, NOW TEN MORE LAPS."_

He started chanting under his breath the mantra he had to memorize, using it to numb his mind from the pain. Lifting himself straight, he began to march.

"Legio ego sum unus. Legio est non cadere. Ego sum, unus ex Caesaris. Caesar non. Non possum ego Legio cadunt. Non possum ego ad Caesarem deficient. Pro Victoria!"

He matched his footsteps to the unheard rhythm of the chant, and marched on.

It seemed like forever until he found a road, and longer still until he saw the gas station ahead. Night was beginning to fall and the chill soothed his burning muscles, but not enough.

He reached the edge of the gas station when he tripped again, this time unable to catch himself. He turned and unconsciously pulled the girl closer, protecting her from impact. They crashed to the ground and Argus caught himself from letting out a cry of pain. As his sight started to darken he pulled a nearby sleeping bag towards him and unfurled it, pulling it over both of them. The girl stirred and edged closer, but Argus felt the pull of sleep too strongly to feel awkward about the arrangement. He fell asleep, completely unaware of anything around him.

Sitting in a nearby chair, with the remainder of a squirrel on a stick in his hand, an old man gawked at them.

He stared at the bottle in his hand, shook his head and put it down, before he pulled out his gun and rummaged for a doctor's bag. He walked slowly up to the couple and stared at them before chuckling softly to himself.

"Well" he said, a sigh escaping him before he continued, "that's the first time someone's stolen my sleeping bag from right in front of me."

* * *

The line that Argus says roughly translates from Latin as "I am of the Legion. The Legion cannot fall. I am of Caesar. Caesar cannot fall. I cannot fall for I am Legion. I cannot fall for I am Caesar. To Victory!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Good Morning!**

**Y'know, I always enjoyed making characters in Fallout games that had no luck (like, literally 1 point luck). It always made me feel like I had worked much harder to keep them alive, especially on survival and harder difficulties.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

**Sincerely,**

**Gatekeeper**

**P.S. To clarify, italics is used for flashbacks while "italics" are for thoughts. **

* * *

**Chapter two, War makes for strange bedfellows**

Bell emerged from sleep like a drunk, slowly and meandering.

She tried to remember how she got to lying down, with a warm but clothed body next to her.

_"Dammit" _she thought "_if Murphy thinks he has an open invitation to my bedroll because of that one night I got drunk and pulled him in to sleep with, I'm gonna stamp his face with 'Made in the Hub' from my rifle butt!"_

She tried to recall what happened that morning.

_It was, in her mind, a pretty nice day in the Mojave. The blazing sun was partially covered by some white clouds and a breeze was rushing through the wasteland just enough to bring cool air to her patrol group but not enough to kick up dust. The cazadors buzzed in the far distance, far enough to be enjoyable without having to worry about being killed by a dog-sized flying abomination._

_Indeed, it would have been a pretty nice day._

_And then Murphy started talking._

She knew somehow, Murphy had something to do with this.

This, and the massive wave of pain her body decided to finally tell her about.

"_Shit! Feels like I got thrown by a Deathclaw! Oh."_

_Bell didn't even remember when they started fighting the Legion patrol, but now she was lining up a shot on a recruit that was rushing towards her._

_She squeezed the trigger and watched him fall before moving onto the next one. Just like her Dad told her to._

_The battle was vicious. Murphy was down, and so was Dan, but they'd stayed at about equal strength between their 5 man squad and the 9 man Legion patrol with 5 Legionnaires down as well. A Legionnaire was closing in on Sergeant Moody and Smith was covering the rookie (which had been her, not that long ago) while the last three Legionnaires advanced on them (one of them had this sideways mohawk plume that she couldn't make heads or tails of.)._

_She turned to help out Smith when she heard a guttural roar._

_From right behind her._

_She turned and saw that cresting the dunes behind her was a Deathclaw._

_An __**alpha male **__Deathclaw_

_Before she knew it, she was picked up in its crushing grasp and thrown towards some vaguely human shaped objects before the darkness came._

She grimaced both at the memory and pain but forged on, now trying to get a better look at her bed-mate.

She turned and found that it was definitely a 'he', judging by the broad shoulders she could barely pick out in the flickering light.

He was passed out, but his breath hitched on every intake, like it was painful to even breathe. She squinted to try and get a better look at his garb, and saw red.

Legion red, barely visible in the light against the leather straps over it.

She rolled out from the sleeping bag and went into a crouch.

_She was seven years old when her father first showed her the knife. It's black blade was worn and battle tested, with a blue-colored leather covered hilt. She saw a faded emblem of a star on a striped field stamped on the hilt._

_"Knives are tools, Bell. Never forget that." Her father rumbled as he handed her it._

_The knife was heavy in her hands as she tried to hold it like he did. He chuckled before she handed it back._

_"But every tool has a primary purpose, and this knife is made to stab. Mommy's kitchen knives are made for cutting, but see how this one is shorter and thin? It's like that to help it make holes quickly." His hands twirled the knife around with practiced ease. He thought for a second before he set his jaw and furrowed his eyebrows, like he always did when he decided something._

_"Here, let me show you how to use it. Just in case."_

_She was 12 when she first had to use it, and thanked her father every day for making her practice._

She pulled her combat knife out from its sheath and raised it up as she got ready to lunge.

She heard a muffled _pip _and a sudden force ripped her knife from her hand, making it fall with a clang to the ground.

"Oh hey now, let's wait a minute there little missy." A tired voice said quietly.

Bell looked towards where the voice came from and saw a figure just at the edge of the light of a nearby campfire. He sat in a chair with his back to the gas station wall.

"And why should I? He's Legion! He's probably a slaver!" she spat, trying to reach for the knife again.

Another _pip_ and she saw the brief flash from a muzzle, followed by a small spray of dirt and a clang and the sound of the knife tumbling a little farther away.

"And he carried you here before passing out. I'd say that warrants a little patience, missy." the stranger said calmly.

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" Bell said as she put a hand on her pistol holster.

a tense moment of silence was drawn out, before the sleeping man sat up and said

"But Ma, don't shoot the bloatfly. I need him to trade for Nuka-Cola with Jimmy!"

He then promptly lay down and cocooned himself in the sleeping bag.

the now awkward moment of silence soon stretched out far too long.

The stranger chuckled. "You two, have got to be the most colorful pair I've seen in my life."

But Bell saw how he put the gun away in a overly dramatic way, to signal his truce attempt. She responded in kind, letting her hand hang loose by her side.

The stranger sighed before he continued "But on my word, he did bring you here. Carried you in like a ripped sack of Brahmin dung, but he did anyway. He didn't even realize I was here, I think. Not like a legionnaire to be so unaware, don't you think?" He mused.

The stranger got up, and took a step towards Bell, who stood up in response. "Tell you what, since you seem unwilling to sleep, why don't you wait till dawn when he wakes up? That way you'll have the upper hand in talking to him. And if you could keep watch, that'd be swell. I could use a kip."

Bell couldn't believe the man would be so trusting of his life and possessions. "And what makes you think you'll wake up and your things will be here? We don't even know each other."

The stranger chuckled again. "Because I don't sleep soundly like your friend over here." His voice went cold for a second "Try anything, and it won't be your knife that's sent to the ground."

Bell could feel a chill go through her, and knew the man was much more dangerous than he appeared.

She nodded "Sure, okay. Whatever. What's your name anyway? I'm Bell."

The stranger mused on this for a second. "For now, call me Coyote. Good night, Bell."

Coyote turned, and sat himself down again in his chair. Getting himself comfortable, he spoke again.

"I apologize for hitting your knife like that. It's a fine piece of work, that was probably made for the old Desert Rangers. It was a hell of a journey to make, getting it from Flagstaff to the Hub. I almost wanted to just take it for myself but I was on a job, you understand."

"Thanks." Bell muttered. "It was my Dad's." She turned and searched for it quickly, wiping the dust off of it and putting it back in it's sheath.

She turned and went to sit by the fire by a bit. She always kept an eye on the Legionnaire that had, apparently, carried her away from the battle.

She found herself getting drowsy and was about to fall back into the embrace of sleep when her mind pieced it Coyote's words together.

She turned sharply to face the old man "You mean you traveled from Flagstaff to the Hub!?" she exclaimed.

His only response was a short snore before tugging on a blanket he'd gotten out.

She turned back again, muttering to herself.

"That means you knew my dad. But why did he never tell me about all of that?"

She brought her knees to her chest and covered her head with her arms, unaware of the tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to figure out more about the strange man who snored in the chair near her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Awakening**

_He was home. Finally home._

_The blisters on his feet shot pain up his legs with every step, but he marched up the worn path he knew so well._

_He shouldn't be here, not while he still wore the Legion Red, but he couldn't care anymore. It had been too long since he'd seen them. Too long since he heard their voices._

_The door was open. It should have been odd, but he overlooked it. He stepped inside his old home. He saw two figures in the room, a man in green sitting in his father's chair, with a woman in pure white standing over the cooking pot like his mother would._

_The man in the chair spoke. It was the old legate, dressed in an NCR Sergeant uniform. "Remember what I told you, Legionnaire. Thrive. Trust your instincts." Before his eyes, the man morphed into his father, before nodding to the woman._

_The woman turned to Argus. It was the Head Mother from the Temple, who led the Cult of Mars._

_She smiled, looking directly at Argus, though he knew she had been blind for more than a decade. "Son of Mars, a man of war will never enjoy the spoils he obtains for long, but a man of peace will never keep them. Which one are you?"_

_Argue couldn't speak, choking on a breathe he didn't remember taking._

_The Head Mother nodded. "Silence is it's own answer." She too morphed into his own mother, turning back to the pot._

_Argue should have been confused, shocked even, but he took it all in calmly. He turned around, looking outside._

_The hills around his home were now blood red dunes, with a lone crucifix standing in the distance. A figure was lashed to it. It was too small to be a man, a tattered dress fluttered in an unseen breeze._

Argus awoke. His ribs still hurt, and it was a little before dawn.

He could sleep. He really wanted to.

But with a sigh, he got up. He couldn't disappoint the Head Mother, after all.

_He was awake and dressed by the time the Head Mother came. He stood outside his dorm room, awaiting her arrival as had become their ritual. She showed up down the stone hallway, carrying a small roll of cloth. Her white robes fluttered slightly in the drafty hallway, her white shawl left down around her neck, allowing him to see more of the weathered face and greying hair usually hidden from view. _

_She laughed softly as she neared, kneeling down to his height. _

_"Ah, awake already I see. It is heartening to see one so young willing to accompany an old woman."_

_She patted his head before standing. _

_"Come child, let us greet the dawn."_

_He waited until she turned to leave before following slightly behind her._

_They headed off together, not saying a word until they exited the building, opening to a large outdoor garden. The darkness of night was slowly being pierced by the dawn's entry, as they looked over the beautiful greenery that was beginning to show color from the rising light. _

_The Head Mother unrolled the cloth, revealing a hand embroidered rug that she set down in front of her. She knelt down, pulling her shawl over her head before beckoning for him to join her. _

_He did, pushing close to her to fend off the chilly morning air getting underneath his threadbare habit. _

_She bowed low to the ground, facing towards the sun, before clasping her hands together, closing her eyes and began to pray. _

_ He bowed as well, but waited till when she began to pray to begin the next step of his ritual._

Argus quickly looked around for threats before beginning. The NCR… girl was asleep near a banked fire. There was equipment, and none of it his. Strange but for now the coast was clear.

He took the sleeping bag and pulled it in front of him, facing the rising sun before kneeling down on both knees. He bowed low, his head almost touching the ground, before returning to a straight posture.

He fished around for a cord around his neck and pulled it out, revealing a small knife in a frayed leather guard. The wooden handle was worn and weathered, with only the barest detail left on the eagle head it was carved into.

He undid the guard and held the knife in his left hand, contemplating.

_His grandmother watched over him, the knife in his left hand. He'd just received it from his father, the beautiful eagle head shining in the morning sun. _

_His grandmother spoke. "For everything, there is a sacrifice, my child. Our ancestors gave their lives and selves to shelter us in the Vault. The Gods gave of their beings to create the worlds. Parents sacrifice themselves for their children. And so we give to those who have given, to honor and ask for their council."_

_Her weathered hands came and cupped his own, her left hand guiding his to point the knife at his open right hand._

_His hands started to shake, not saying a word. _

_His grandmother hummed in acknowledgement of his fear. _

_"You asked for my guidance, to see the path I trod, and this is the test I give you. There is no shame in turning back, you have done honorably, but now you must choose. Become my apprentice, or find another master in the village."_

_Her hands squeezed his gently. "But no matter what your choice, I am so proud of you, child. I'll love you as much whatever you decide. "_

_His hands shook, as he panicked slightly, before slowly settling down. He could stop, find Mr. Risten or Papa to take him as an apprentice, and Gramma would still love him. He knew part of the price for Gramma's lessons would be something like this. But now… now he was faced with the reality of his choice._

_But with a deep breath, he remembered why he started in the first place. The whispers he heard in the trees, and voices on the wind, calling him._

_He couldn't stop hearing them, so he turned to Gramma to help him listen instead. How he was slowly learning to piece together what he heard and what they meant, the whispers of the Gods and spirits telling him of things that were and were to be. How he was no longer alone because the others couldn't hear them, couldn't seem to understand it. _

_He wouldn't throw that away. He knew the path he wanted. _

_Taking a deep breath, he brought the knife to his right hand…_

With a small prick, Argus watched the blood on his index finger well up for a second before putting the finger on his forehead, dragging down to form a red line down to between his eyebrows.

He squeezed his finger in the other hand, pressing down to allow the blood to clot quickly.

And then, he listened.

He heard the wind running through the sand, the endless rustle of tumbleweeds, the soft shimmying of his charge as she unconsciously tried to get more comfortable.

He frowned and looked towards the rising sun.

"When did the world get so quiet?" He muttered to himself.

_"Probably when I became a soldier."_ He thought.

The temple had been… tolerant of his belligerent attitude, flexible and patient on his conversion.

Soldiers were anything but that. He'd been hiding his daily sacrifice, but it was when he was sent to the battlegrounds that he stopped doing them entirely.

Now here he was, cut off from the Legion and months away from the Temple, alone and charged with the safety of an enemy.

The wind caught the back of his scalp, and he wondered if it was supposed to mean something.

He sighed, and tried to keep meditating. Breathing deeply he tried to clear his mind.

The sound of footsteps behind him quickly broke that.

He jumped to his feet and spun, raising his fists in preparation for a fight.

He was instead met by an old man dragging a corpse.

A Gecko by the looks of it.

The old man lifted his head and smiled. "Finally awake, I see. Good. Why don't you get started on prepping this here Gecko? Nothing better than fresh Gecko steak, I'll tell you that."

He dropped the Gecko and pulled out a knife.

Argus tensed as a reflex.

The old man raised his other hand, palm open. "Relax, son. I'm putting knife here so you can use it while gutting the Gecko. I'm not aiming to hurt you."

With that, he put the knife near the Gecko along with a large stained cloth and backed up, before walking in a wide circle around Argus back to the gas station building.

Argus slowly relaxed, and walked towards the Gecko.

Looking back at the gas station, he saw the old man rummage through his pack for some supplies, the girl slowly stirring from her sleep from the noise.

_"Well, if she feels safe enough to sleep I guess it's fine."_

With a shrug, he picked up the knife and the corpse, and walked off to a nearby crevice to get to work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Good Morning!**

**My oh my it's been a while. Fortuneately, I've had a bit of time on my hands to rectify that. So here's the second part of the update!**

**Sincerely,**

**Gatekeeper**

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Treatise**

Bell woke up with the biggest crick in her neck, that she couldn't quite work out. With a few more painful tries, she shook her head and blinked her bleary eyes.

She had fallen asleep against one of the (remaining) overhead supports of the gas station, facing where she had awoken last night.

She saw that it was empty, the sleeping bag laid out flat facing the rising sun.

She reached for her pistol, afraid she would be caught by surprise by him.

Fully armed, she started looking around before standing up. She saw that Coyote had set up a campfire with some coals, cooking something over them.

And that the Legionnaire was sitting across from him.

She tensed up, her finger subconsciously going to the trigger.

She breathed._ "Wait. If Coyote is willing to have him so close, he obviously hasn't done anything to him. A legionnaire he might be, but he's not an enemy right now. He did apparently took us away from the battle. Let's see how long it takes for him to change his mind."_

She pocketed the pistol but sat for a while, watching them interact before standing up. As she did, a small gust of air wafted over the scent of campfire smoke and a delicious smell. Her stomach made its presence known and she couldn't resist for much longer.**  
**

She stood up and walked over to the fire, ignoring the Legionnaire but keeping an eye on him

"Hey Coyote," She called "What're you cooking?"

Coyote looked up after adding a few bits of charcoal. "Well, I can't say I'm cooking much at all. Our friend over here is the one to thank for the wonderful smell."

Bell scrutinized the grill "...Are those steaks?""

Coyote nodded. "Yep. Some of the best Gecko steaks I've ever seen. He's got a real talent, this one."

Bell jerked away. "That's Gecko!?"

Coyote threw a look her way. "Not all of us have the privilege of having Bighorn around all the time. We learn to make the best of what's around."

The Legionnaire said nothing, but after poking the steaks a bit more he nodded. He grabbed a stack of tin plates and a basic knife/fork combo. and served Coyote and himself, hesitating before doing the same for Bell.

Bell quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. She eyed the steak warily.

She'd seen Geckos in action, she wasn't sure she could stomach it like she could MREs.

Coyote and the Legionnaire did not seem to share the same struggles, digging in heartily.

After a bit, she decided to try it too. With a little difficulty, she was able to separate a small piece from the steak and popped it in her mouth. It was… amazingly better than she expected. A little tougher than the Bighorn steak she was more used too, but the smoky residue from the coals and whatever seasoning the Legionnaire put on easily set off the gamey texture.

She tried hard not to increase her eating speed, not wanting to send any kind of message across.

After eating the three reclined by the firepit; One in contentment and the other two in a wary vigilance.

Coyote got up with a small sigh. "Wow! That was good! I haven't had a meal like that in ages."

He stretched and started gathering up his things. "Why don't you two keep that grill set? I've got enough junk as it is, hah!"

Bell took a minute to process that. "Wait… you're leaving!" She said as she turned her head in his direction.

It didn't escape her notice that the Legionnaire also turned his head towards Coyote in surprise.

Coyote nodded, putting on his pack and gathering the last of his gear before grabbing a lever-action rifle from near the chair he was using. "Yep. I have one last job to finish, and I've put it off long enough."

_"Oh no, oh nononono I'm NOT staying around this Legion savage alone!"_

He started heading off when Bell stood up. She walked over to him, away from the campfire, before grabbing his arm.

"Coyote! You can't just… leave like this! What the hell am I supposed to do with him? He'll kill me 5 minutes!"

Coyote looked her dead in the eye before replying. "And he didn't have the chance beforehand? He was awake at dawn, Bell. He had every chance to do it yesterday too, when he dragged you here."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Listen, Bell. It's not my place to act as a moderator for you two. You have your own problems, and I've got mine to deal with. I helped you both out yesterday and this morning because our paths crossed, and I'd be ashamed if I let you kill each other before having the chance to even talk about it."

He pointed back at the Legionnaire. "This man saved you, and by my books that means you owe him something. I don't care if he's a Legionnaire, and I don't care if you're NCR. Doesn't matter, little missie. What you owe him isn't up to me to decide, whether it's your life, your money or maybe…"

He let down his hand "...maybe all it's good for is a chance to explain himself. You get to decide that, and I won't get caught up in it anymore until I got my own issues settled."

He turned away and continued walking, waving back to them. "Take care you two!"

Bell couldn't find it in her to go after him again, and stood there till he crossed over a hill in the road.

With a sigh, she turned around back to the campfire and started walking back.

The legionnaire was still nearby, banking the coals and cleaning up the rest of the gear.

She walked back and stood by the fire, waiting for him to get done putzing around.

She might or might not have had her hand hovering over her pistol.

Just in case.

* * *

_"She has her hand on her pistol. I wonder when she's going to shoot me. I wonder if I'd be fast enough to kill her before that happened."_

Argus shook his head slightly as he cleaned the remainder of the cooking gear. It was a little excessive, what with the extra plates and utensils, but it was nice not having to worry about getting your hands too oily from the steaks.

He was putting off talking to her, he knew that, yet he couldn't quite bring himself to turn towards her.

He… didn't mind this type of ceasefire they'd kept today. But he was unsure of how to keep that up.

Luckily, he wasn't the one who had to break the silence. "...Hey." the girl said.

He turned to face her squarely, his stance tense.

She huffed. "If you're going to stand like you're going to fight me, we might as well get it over with now."

Her hand inched closer to her pistol.

Argus tried to relax his stance. While he was curious to how a fight would last between the two of them, he wasn't that interested. Besides, he needed to fulfill his promise first.

Afterwords? Well, that was to be determined later.

The girl heaved a sigh, also moving her hand away from the holster. "Okay, I guess you don't want to fight either. Great."

She started pacing, not really turning away from him but moving back and forth on her side of the campfire. "Look, I'm NCR. You're Legion. Yesterday you fought me. I didn't see you, but I know you must have been there. WE should have killed each other. It's how these things work."

She flung out her hands. "But then that Deathclaw showed up, and God only knows how we survived that."

_"Who's God?"_ mused Argus.

"And NOW Coyote been telling me that you… dragged me here." She finished with an exasperated groan and looked at him.

Argus nodded. Not much else to add on to that.

_"Should I tell her about skinning the Gecko? No, doesn't seem important. I'm glad they turned out well."_

Bell stood there for a second before throwing out her hands. "WELL!? You gonna add something to that? 'Cause that doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me."

_"... on second thought maybe I should tell her about the Gecko, she seems pretty lively."_

She sneered at him. "Or is this one of your misogynistic things where you don't even TALK to women? Well that's just great. Thanks for the whole drag, I guess, but I got to head back to base. Someone has to report that…" She gulped a bit, but forged on "...that my squad got caught up in a firefight. I imagine you have to do something similar. So I'll take a bit of this gear, and head out unless you have some superior Legion wisdom you want to give me." She said sarcastically.

She started grabbing some of the loose gear, making a loose pack.

Argus rolled his eyes.

"Well, I guess that's that. She'll get back to her base, and I can't go there since I'll get shot on sight. It can't be that far anyway, seeing as we ran across each other during the day."

After thinking that, he felt a sudden cold race up his body.

_"...But I made a promise. Something tells me it won't go that easily. She's perfectly capable. I mean, she IS a soldier, even if she is a women. Are the NCR that desperate that they'd destroy their society by having women fight instead of fortifying the home? No wonder they seem to run away at times…._

_...Mars damn it all, I should never have made that promise."_

Mustering up all his will, he coughed a little before speaking. "...No."

Bell swung around from gathering her supplies, with a glare. "Oh, and how are you going to stop me? Are we back to square one already?"

_"Shit. Okay, more words this time!"_

"No!" Argus said emphatically "I… I must come with you. Till you are safe."

Bell looked at him with a look of disbelief. "...Why?"

"I made a promise." Argus explained.

"...And?" Bell ventured, "Anything else?"

Argus shrugged.

"...I'm not getting rid of you am I?" Bell deadpanned.

Argus responded with a headshake.

"...You're not a big talker, are you?" She asked

Argus shrugged.

Bell sighed, before sitting down again.

Argus sat down as well.

They sat there for a bit, Bell muttering to herself while Argus waited for her to continue.

After sometime Bell sighed again before looking up at him.

"Fine! Fine. I'm going to assume that you are crazy, if not stupid, but that you mean well. I've heard you Legion guys are super serious about promises, so I'll give you that. If you're serious about this whole thing, we'll go to my base camp after looking at the battle scene to make a report and recover anything that hasn't already been taken care of."

Argus nodded in agreement.

Bell nodded as well. "Okay then! So, here's the deal. Follow me to the base camp, and I'll get the other squad to let you go free assuming they don't shoot us on sight. Sounds good?"

Again, Argus nodded. Sounded simple enough.

She reached over the banked fire, and extended her hand. "Alright then, let's shake on it."

Argus grasped her hand and gave it a good shake.

"I guess I should introduce myself. Name's Bell." She said.

"Argus." he replied softly.

Bell sighed. "I can tell this is going to be a much bigger headache than what it should really be."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Separation**

Argus and Bell walk away from the gas station, both unsure of what the day would bring.

_"What the hell am I doing?"_ Bell thought,_ "I should never have agreed to this; I'm such an idiot! He'll probably just kill me at the nearest opportunity."_ She sighed, trying not to put her head in her hands. She only hopes that he's either far enough away to shoot when things inevitably fall apart.

Argus stays silent, scanning the area for threats. He missed his spear, only having the knife Coyote left him that morning. Glancing at his now possibly-maybe squadmate who had her head in her hands, that was not a safe way to keep lookout, but maybe that's how the NCR operated. What he did know was how the Legion operated, and what he needed to do.

Or rather, what he couldn't do.

_"I can't go back to the Legion; they'd kill me, and if they killed me then the Tribe would be at the mercy of the Legion. But if I stay, then they'd presume I deserted. What do I do about this?"_ He looked at his charge. She'd manage to recover from whatever fatigue she'd had and kept her head on a swivel. She was small, well, smaller than the other NCR troops he'd seen and was light even for her height. She was weak, and in need.

His ribs chose to twinge, invoking a sharp pain he barely kept concealed.

…She might not be the only one who needed help.

_"Whatever happens, I must get her to safety. Hopefully that is soon."_

They soon arrived at the battle scene, the hot desert sun at noon creating a blistering heat to go with the smell of rotting flesh. Bodies were strewn everywhere, a mix of green and red uniforms lying in the barren wastes. In the middle lay a curious sight. A Deathclaw lay still, with talons piercing two bodies laying on top, one red and the other green.

"So he did manage to kill it." Argus muttered, a little awed. Not many could claim to have seen a Deathclaw, much less live to tell the tale. To have taken one to the grave… it was extraordinary.

Bell glanced over his way, wondering what he said. She kept a eye out for danger as they drew closer.

Argus stepped towards the corpses. As he grew closer, he saw that the Sergeant wore the Decaniis' helm, and that the Decanii wore an NCR trooper helmet. With a snort he moved towards the Deathclaw.

It was huge, taller than anything he'd ever seen even in death. Its horns curved forward with a wicked twist as it seemed to bellow silent defiance even to the end.

He blinked and a shiver went down his spine. The sand howled in the wind rushing past.

It almost looked like the glazed, lifeless eyes stared at him, now.

"I almost forgot," Bell butted into his thoughts, "What exactly did happen? I remember being thrown by the Deathclaw but not much else."

Argus continued looking at the Deathclaw, ignoring her. She huffed slightly and went about scanning the area, trying to piece together the scene. She wished she had been awake for more of it, but there was nothing to be done about it.

"So… Murphey and Dan went down here, and Smith fell with two legionnaires. Okay, so what about the rookie?"

She looked and saw him. He lay hacked to pieces, a machete in his gut while a legionnaire lay next to him.

"Dear God," she breathed. It must have been excrutiating. None of the other wounds were terrible, but he would have been left bleeding out over hours, too weak to do anything as he lay dying.

She took off her helmet, holding it over her heart as she tried to stop the tears from falling.

Pete was his name, and he'd been shipped out a month ago. They'd quickly become friends, Bell and him, as he reminded her all about the goings-on in the Hub. In fact, Bell could have said that about all her squad. They'd been safe, relatively, and she'd been sure that he'd be able to survive his tour and get back to his sweetheart.

Not anymore.

She wiped her face, trying to clean off as best she could. She glanced towards Argus who was looking at her with a blank face.

"You got something to say?" she snapped

Argus shook his head quickly, and got back to doing… something with the Deathclaw.

Bell pulled her mouth cover over and turned away.

It was time to get the dog-tags.

* * *

Argus wished he had a cloth to cover his face. The smell was terrible

He lifted up the left leg of the Deathclaw and with a grunt moved it aside.

_"Let's see. Grandmother said to watch for the color of the skin... dark tan, so an adult, and also the blood trails near the... Oh. So, an Alpha then. Recently sired a nest as well."_

"Any particular reason you're staring at a Deathclaw crotch?" Bell asked. She was finally done with her task. 4 bloody chains lay in her breast pocket.

"Confirmation." Argus said simply, as he got up from the corpse. He turned around and quickly pulled out a small bottle from the kit he carried, washing his hands with it.

Bell waited for him to continue and gave in to her curiosity when he didn't, "Confirmation on what?"

Argus cocked his head and was silent for a bit before responding, "If there's a nest around."

Bell tilted her head. "How'd you do that? Legion voodoo?"

Argus chuckled as his mind brought back a memory.

_A year ago, as they'd been marching towards the Mojave, Argus had insisted on stopping the group._

_The Decanii had been seconds away from making an example of the stubborn initiate, before smirking._

_"Very well then. Recruits, on me. We'll scout around the area. Our newest has kindly offered to set up camp for the night, including dinner."_

_Loud cheers rang out, and the rest of the group dumped their gear at Argus' feet. He kept his head low, ears burning even as he wanted to shout at the man._

_But one never shouted at the Decanii. One did not talk at all._

_The Legion does not speak, only act._

_So Argus let them go, unable to tell them about the Cazador moltings he'd spotted on the way here. He set about getting the Decanii's tent and started a cooking fire, deciding on a simple bean and bone soup._

_So it was that when the Decanii came back, frothing at the mouth and carried by the rest of the Legionnaries (some of which also had wounds.) Argus already had a place to lay him._

_After he administered a antivenom he'd kept in his pack, he'd gotten the same question from a Legionnaire_

_"What was that magic you used?"_

"Nothing more than my eyes." Argus replied.

Bell raised an eyebrow. "Right. Well if you're worried about nests, there's Dead Wind Cavern to the south of here. The Rangers have reported at least 3 nests near there."

Argus stared at her dead in the eye. "You let Deathclaws nest so close to towns?" he said coldly.

Bell stared back. "If we didn't have to fight you, it wouldn't be there. I'm sure you have your own issues back East."

Argus shook his head. "Not Raiders. Not Deathclaws. All are purged before it is claimed. Perhaps your chiefs should be more cautious about how far you reach before securing your homes."

"I don't want to hear that from the group who burned down a town after it wanted to join them. You ever heard of Nipton?" Bell shot back.

Argus lowered his eyes. Of course he knew about Nipton. That raid had been legendary. A whole town, sacked in a single night without a casualty.

Taken by Vulpes Inculta, through manipulation and lies, was the whispers of the legionnaires. Taken without honor, nor praise to Mars. Godless.

"...Yes, I do." Argus said. "Would you really have wanted them there, if they were so willing to throw away your protection?"

Bell opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. There had been rumors, sure, of NCR troopers seeing fellows in red jerseys while going to the town for a "visit". She'd heard all about it when she had been assigned at the Mojave Outpost, before being transferred to the Sarge's recon patrol. Many wanted to just take the town, or at least establish a stakeout there as the rumors became more frequent.

Now it was too late, and Bell had a bad taste left in her mouth from the silence.

Bell took in a deep breath, and sighed. "I... don't know. I can't make that call. Look, let's just get this over with. You have everything you need?"

Argus nodded, pausing to pick up an abandoned spear and hefted it into his hand. He grunted in satisfaction; it was good to have it back in his hand. He rolled it over in his hand.

_The wooden shaft was freshly oiled, the wood slick with a sheen as Argus whispered a prayer._

_He took the small knife out of it's sheathe and began to whittle, jagged symbols coming into being. _

_Thoughts of home sprung to his mind, his Grandmother most of all. Lessons as he learned about the ways of the written script, and about the movement of the stars._

_A line became pronounced, straight as the shaft allowed it to be. The grounding rod. Perilous to those who would choose to defy the order of things._

_The knife twisted in his hand, moved in a rhythm he did not set. Down, curve and chip. slash and cut upward._

_Ah, the bow. Only a part of what made the whole. Necessary in the hunt, but more so in life._

_Argus felt himself slip away, and he drove the knife stronger than he thought possible. The next cut would be deep, smooth._

_Up and curve, hook. Slash down and start again, above the last. Slash down, and end._

_He felt a prick, and his eyes opened. He stared at the new symbol. A crook and a line. One he had not seen. _

_One filled with his blood. The way was opened. What did it mean?_

The weathered wood looked back at him. It was the first spear he had made, and still the unknown glyph looked back at him, scarred and reddened. Unsolved.

Bell came over as he nestled the spear on his shoulder. "You're not going to take anything else? Not even a gun?" She asked curiously. She had grabbed the dog tags, as was required, but also bundled up the remaining guns, ammo and salary.

Something to help pay for a pine box, at least. If there was anything to even collect later.

Argus shook his head. "I'm not a good shot." He grunted. Bell shrugged.

Bell struggled to contain a laugh. _"So the guy who can throw a spear says he's a bad shot? Whatever."_

They trotted off, heading towards the base.

Argus dismissed the shrill wind by his ear and covered it roughly.

* * *

_Later, around 5pm. Ranger Station Charlie_

They were farther down the train tracks to the south of the station, Argus remaining concealed in a rock cropping nearby.

Bell knew something was wrong, even this far away from the station. No one was watching the tracks. A crude, mobile junk wall on tires was locked and chained in place in front of the sandbags leading to the front of the station.

"Something's up. Keep on the look out."

Argus nodded and pulled out his spear, crouching down.

Bell kept talking to herself. "Bravo should still be at the base, unless they went out searching for us. But that's against protocol, and there ain't no way in hell Jim is going to put up with that. Where are they? The gate's closed, at least. Good thing I got the key from... shit! I forgot the key!"

"So what shall we do?" Argus asked.

"We?" Bell looked over at him, confused. "_We_ don't need to do anything. You got me here, alright? Your part in this thing is done. I'll wait near the gate for them to return. No one's stupid enough to come near a NCR base."

_"Except for me"_ Argus thought grimly.

Argus blinked. He slowly stood up and away from Bell. "Understood."

He turned and started making his was back where they came from, picking his way across the tracks.

Bell looked on, her mind prodding her as she watched him leave.


End file.
